Ransom for a Prince Page 10

  “Forget about questioning him, then, and just arrest him,” Sebastian advised.

  “For what?” Evgeny asked, arching a pale blond brow. “There are no outstanding warrants against me. I’ve even served out my parole.”

  “You violated your parole when you got out of prison and beat your wife.” Sebastian fisted his hands, ready to beat the man who’d been so vicious to a woman who deserved only respect and tenderness.

  “I don’t know what she told you,” Evgeny said, “but that’s not what she told anyone else. She never pressed charges against me.”

  “She was too scared to do that,” Sebastian defended her. “Then. Talk to her now, Sheriff. She’ll tell you all about her ex-husband.”

  Sheriff Wolf glanced across the room to where Jessica stood with her daughter and then back to the men who stood uncomfortably close to each other. “Can I leave you two over here without worrying you’ll beat the hell out of each other?”

  “Maybe not,” Sebastian acknowledged. He really, really wanted—no, hell, he needed—to make Evgeny Surinka feel the pain and fear he’d subjected Jessica to for years.

  Evgeny chuckled and held up his hands. “I want no trouble. I only came here to bring my wife—” his throat moved as he swallowed hard “—and child home with me.”

  “They’re not going anywhere with you,” Sebastian said. “Sheriff, please, talk to Jessica.”

  “Teresa,” Evgeny corrected him again. The sheriff only nodded and walked over to her and Samantha. Evgeny turned to Sebastian and reiterated, “Her name is Teresa.”

  “Not anymore. That woman you knew—your wife—she’s gone. You killed her five years ago.”

  Evgeny laughed. “How long have you known my wife?”

  Sebastian lifted his chin. “It doesn’t matter how long. It’s how well.”

  “You don’t know her very well at all,” Evgeny said. “She and I grew up together. Her brother and I were best friends. We’ve known each other most of our lives. We are connected in a way that you will never know or experience. I don’t know what she told you in order to gain your sympathy and probably a lot of your money, but I do know that she will come back to me.”

  “She stayed away from you for five years,” Sebastian reminded the narcissist. “If your men hadn’t hurt her friend, she would already be gone. She knew it was you behind everything.” And Sebastian should have trusted her and helped her get away before Evgeny had found out about Samantha. And before Jessica had had to face the monster from her past.

  Evgeny laughed again. “She’d be gone…with your big reward money, man. Haven’t you figured out that she’s been playing you all along?”

  Sebastian shook his head in disgust. “You are unbelievable.”

  “You’d be smart to believe me,” Evgeny said, “because as I already told you, I know the real Teresa.”

  “Jessica,” Sebastian murmured.

  “Let me guess,” Evgeny continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “Teresa claimed to be that witness you’re looking for, but then she really had nothing to tell you about that night that you didn’t already know.”

  He shook his head.

  “So I’m wrong?” That pale blond brow arched again. “She led you to your missing friend?”

  “You’re wrong about her wanting my money,” he said. “She refused to accept the reward.”

  “Of course she did,” Evgeny said, “which made you all the more determined to give her that money and anything else. Oh, and then when she shared her sob story with you, she really roped you in, got you all determined to take care of her. To protect her.” Evgeny reached out and patted his shoulder in commiseration. “She does that to a man, plays all vulnerable so that he wants to protect her.”

  Sebastian itched to slam his fist into the man’s smug face. Instead he forced a laugh, too. “Better men than you have tried to mess with my head. It’s not going to work.”

  Not again. But it had worked once. Even though he was dead, his grandfather still lived in Sebastian’s mind—haunting him with all his criticisms and complaints. It wouldn’t have mattered what Sebastian had done; it never would have been good enough for King Omar Zubira because he’d never been good enough. Because Omar hadn’t believed Sebastian’s father had been good enough to marry his daughter. And in the end maybe he hadn’t been.

  “I am going to protect her from you,” Sebastian vowed.

  Evgeny chuckled. “That’s funny, really, when you’re the one who actually needs protecting.”

  JESSICA COULDN’T SPEAK, could only nod or shake her head in response to the sheriff’s questions. She didn’t care as much about what he was saying as she worried about what Evgeny was saying to Sebastian.

  Better than anyone, she knew how the man could manipulate someone. Heck, even as a young boy he’d been able to manipulate people into feeling things they hadn’t felt, into believing things they’d always doubted.

  “I’m not lying,” she said.

  “About what?” the sheriff asked, his brow furrowed with confusion.

  “He’s a bad man,” she said, glancing back at her daughter. Samantha sat at that table again, far enough away from her mother and her father that she wouldn’t be able to hear either conversation—especially because she was listening to the MP3 player again.

  “I can’t arrest him for that,” Wolf replied. “You’ll have to swear out a complaint against him.”

  “For something he did five years ago?” she asked. “In another state? Can you arrest him?”

  “We can work with the police department where the crime occurred.”

  She snorted. “He works with the police department where the crime occurred.”

  “He’s a cop?”

  “He’s more powerful than that.”

  “What is he?” Wolf asked, with another glance over his shoulder at the men who stood too close together and were too deep in conversation.

  “An FBI informant. That’s how he got out of prison. He turned over evidence against someone the Feds wanted for a long time.”

  “Who?” Wolf asked.

  “His father.” He’d turned against the man he’d both feared and loved—because of her. Once she’d served him with the divorce papers, he’d been determined to get to her at whatever cost. And no one would get in his way or stop him.

  Sebastian had promised her that he would, but she couldn’t count on him. She couldn’t count on anyone. But she could count on Evgeny never giving up.

  “So you think that because of what he’s done for the FBI, he’s untouchable?” the sheriff asked.

  “I’ve been gone for five years,” she said. “Maybe things have changed. Maybe he got in trouble again.”

  “I’ll do what Prince Sebastian suggested and search for outstanding warrants.”

  “I wish you could arrest him.”

  “Unless there’s a warrant for him, I wouldn’t be able to hold him.”

  “Even if you could hold him for just a little while…” Giving her enough time to run away with Samantha.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” The sheriff pulled out his cell phone, then glanced at the sign prohibiting its use. “I’ll be right back,” he assured her as he walked toward the hall.

  Sebastian followed him out, his deep voice vibrating with anger. Her own temper flared as she realized they’d left her and Samantha alone with Evgeny.

  As he walked over to her, a grin curved his cruel lips. Instead of running away or cowering, she met him halfway, stepping between him and Samantha as Sebastian had stepped in front of her just a short while ago.

  “You’re losing your white knight,” Evgeny taunted her.

  “What did you say to him?”

  “I told him he was wasting his time with you,” he replied. “That you and I have a connection that will never be broken.”

  She glanced back at Samantha, making sure the little girl still had the phone pressed to her ear, listening to music. Still, Jessica pitched her voice lower, so her
child would not overhear. “You broke that connection when you broke my nose as well as a couple other of my bones five years ago.”

  “I didn’t want to hurt you. But you’d made me so angry, trying to leave me.”

  “That was no excuse—”

  “You know that I have an excuse, though. You know how I was raised,” Evgeny reminded her.

  All those times he’d come to their apartment, battered from his father’s fists, flashed through her mind. The sympathy she’d felt for him then had become something more once they’d grown up. It had turned to love. But then Evgeny had turned into someone else, the man he’d claimed to hate.

  “Then you,” she replied, “should know better than anyone how it feels to be treated that way.”

  “See, Teresa,” he said, with that wicked grin that always used to charm her, “you understand me—as no one else ever has.”

  “I know you,” she said. “But I don’t understand you at all.”

  “No.” He shook his head and reached for her, but when she flinched, he fisted his hands at his sides. “You and I share that special connection.”

  “And I told you that you severed that—”

  “I’m talking about our daughter,” he said. “She’s the connection we’ll always have.”

  “She’s not yours,” she hotly denied.

  He laughed. “You cannot deny her paternity. She looks just like me. I am her father.”

  But for her eyes, she had actually looked more like Sebastian when he’d held her—as a father would, with comfort and care. Evgeny would never care about anyone as much as he cared about himself.

  “You’ll have to order a DNA test to prove that,” she said because she would never admit it. And his lawyer would have to track her down to serve her with the court order to have it done.

  “You have changed,” Evgeny admitted. “You’re not the same woman I remember.”

  She expelled a shaky breath. “I’m not.” She wasn’t the naive young girl who’d fallen for his charm and his lies and his sad story. “You need to let me go.”

  His jaw clenched, a muscle jumping in his cheek. “You can try to run again,” he said. “But you’re not taking her with you. What did you name her?”

  He asked as if he intended to change the child’s name if he didn’t like it. She lifted her chin. “You don’t need to know her name because you’re never going to get to know her.”

  He leaned closer, his gray eyes hard with rage, and in a vicious whisper demanded, “Tell me her name.”

  The fear he always filled her with, even when he was hundreds of miles away, gripped her and had her automatically obeying him. “Samantha. Her name is Samantha.”

  He expelled a ragged breath. “For your brother.” He nodded. “I understand…”

  “I don’t care if you understand. I don’t care what you think, either.” Her anger and mother’s instincts of protection beat back her fear. “You’re not going to be part of her life.”

  “I’m not just going for a DNA test. I’m going for full custody. You’ve stolen over four years of her life from me. I’ll take the rest from you.”

  He threatened more than a custody battle, and she knew it. He threatened more than her life even; he threatened to take away her very reason for living. Jessica’s stomach pitched as she realized her worst nightmare was about to come true.

  DMITRI DUCKED HIS CHIN into the collar of his coat, hoping nobody recognized him. “We shouldn’t have come back here,” he murmured to the driver who hunched low behind the wheel of the small SUV they’d rented days ago as a backup to the van.

  “The boss ordered it,” the driver reminded him. “Said we can’t take our eyes off her or she’ll split again.”

  “We shouldn’t be hanging around here, not after what we…” Bile rose in his throat. He hadn’t wanted to hurt the older woman, but she’d damn near killed him. He rubbed at his shoulder and winced. He’d dug out the buckshot, but the wounds were raw, like the ones on his face where the woman had clawed his skin.

  “We needed to know if that red-haired woman was the woman the boss has been looking for,” the driver replied. “And now we know.”

  “That ranch lady didn’t tell us, though,” Dmitri reminded him with a flash of respect despite his pain.

  “She is a loyal friend,” the driver grudgingly admitted.

  “She probably has more than one here. We should not be here. Especially here.” He glanced around the parking lot, hoping no one had noticed them. While they sat in the dark, steam had begun to build up on the windows. “I wish Rurik had not recognized the woman. If he hadn’t, we’d never have had to come to this godforsaken place. Look what happened to Rurik after he came here.”

  “He got killed,” Nic recalled with a shudder. “Crushed to death.”

  “After he murdered someone,” Dmitri added. He’d first met the man in prison, years ago in Russia. Then they had met again, years later, through the boss. Rurik hadn’t been on the payroll, though. He’d been a contract killer.

  Live by the sword, die by the sword.

  Dmitri shuddered, too. “And all hell broke loose around here. Now is not the time for us to be here, not when it’s crawling with cops and reporters. We need to leave.”

  “And disobey a direct order?” Nic shook his head. “I do not want to be on the boss’s bad side.”

  “He does not have a good side.” Dmitri feared that he would wind up just like Rurik. Dead. But he probably would not be the only one. If the boss was going down, he would not go alone.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sebastian stared out into the night. Fog had rolled in and he could see nothing outside the lodge. Inside, he saw too much. His reflection bounced back from the dark glass, but he didn’t look at his own image. Instead he stared beyond himself, through the open door to the other bedroom in the suite. He’d left it open so he could make sure that Jessica didn’t try to run.

  Even though he couldn’t see out, he knew that Evgeny and his men waited out there, ready to catch her should she try to escape.

  Escape?

  He pushed his hand through his hair, disgusted with himself. Escape from whom? Him? Had he become as bad as Evgeny—determined to hang on to her no matter what she wanted?

  She hadn’t wanted to come back to the resort with him, but the sheriff and Samantha had both urged her to accept his invitation. Hell, it hadn’t been an invitation at all. He’d ordered her to come back to his suite so that he could protect her from Evgeny.

  But who would protect her from him?

  How could he save her without scaring her more? Without convincing her that he was exactly like the man who’d abused her?

  He moved away from the window, drawn to that open door. She lay in the bed with her daughter, her arms wrapped tight around Samantha as if afraid that Evgeny would break in and try to wrest the child from her arms as they lay sleeping. Perhaps she was right to be afraid. That seemed exactly like something the ruthless Russian would do.

  Sebastian could be ruthless, too. He’d proven that every time he’d pulled the trigger. He could protect Jessica and Samantha. He would not fail like his father had failed his mother.

  She shifted on the mattress, and a pang of guilt struck him that he violated her privacy in watching them sleep. He had no right.

  He had no rights at all where Jessica was concerned. But when he turned away, she called out, a soft cry that reached inside him and squeezed his heart. He didn’t remember moving, but he was at her side, kneeling beside the bed.

  She cried out again, and Samantha murmured, drawn awake by her mother’s fear.

  “Shh,” he soothed the child back to sleep.

  The woman was not soothed. Instead her eyes opened, wide with fear, and her mouth opened, a scream on her lips. He could have silenced Jessica with his palm, but almost every time he reached a hand toward her, she flinched. So he silenced her with his mouth instead. He pressed his lips to hers.

  She lifted her han
ds to his hair and he winced, expecting that she would pull him away. Instead she tunneled her fingers into it and clutched him to her.

  “I knew he was a real prince,” Samantha murmured.

  Sebastian jerked away from her mother while Jessica’s face flushed bright red. She’d been asleep when he’d kissed her; she had no reason to be embarrassed. He was the one who’d been awake and aware of what he was doing.

  Kissing her…

  His lips tingled and he could still taste her.

  “Are you a princess now, Mommy?” Samantha asked, rubbing her knuckles into her sleep-dazed eyes. “Since he kissed you?”

  “No, honey. I’m not a princess. You’re dreaming, sweetie,” Jessica said, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “Go back to sleep.” She tugged the blanket over the little girl’s shoulders, and then she slipped out of the bed and motioned Sebastian to follow her from the room. She wore one of the hotel robes, which was velvety soft and in a rich gold color that brought out the golden tone of her skin.

  Did she wear anything beneath it? He wanted to reach for the belt of the robe, but she beat him there, tightening it around her waist.

  “You were dreaming, too,” he said after she pulled the door almost closed behind them.

  “You didn’t kiss me?” she asked with a slight smile.

  “Oh, I did that. But you were dreaming before I kissed you. You cried out.”

  “I was having a nightmare,” she admitted with a shiver.

  “About Evgeny taking Samantha away.”

  “Yes.” She shuddered now. “And about what happened today to Helen.”

  “She’s going to be okay.”

  “Will Samantha? She was there when that happened. She was hiding, but the walls in the old house are thin. She could have heard everything that happened. Will she be okay?”

  “Why are you asking me? I am not the person to ask,” he replied. “I don’t know anything about kids.” He hadn’t been one since that awful night when his father hadn’t come for him and Antoine. His gut clenched as the dark descended over him again. He turned back toward the window, but he still couldn’t see out. He could only see inside—to the past.